Page 50 of Bride By Initiation

They follow me.

Dad calls out, "Zara!"

"Please, don't go," Mom pleads.

But I can't stay. I can't continue to not know the truth about why I spent the first fifteen years of my life without a father, with my mother telling me she didn't know who he was when she knew the entire time.

I'm tired of lies and deceit and the questions I never get answers to. Now, there are even more.

Dad puts his hand on my arm. "Zara?—"

I shrug away from his hold. "Do not touch me. Do not touch me, and do not talk to me until you're ready to tell me the truth."

I hit the elevator button.

"Zara, you have to trust me," he claims.

I shake my head. "Do you know how tired I am of hearing you say that I have to trust you? Well, guess what, Dad? I'm tired of trusting you."

Mom snaps, "Zara?—"

"No! You both ruined the first fifteen years of my life! Now, this new information comes to me, and he won't explain it. And you're going to support him? Sorry, but I'm thirty years old. I'm not a child," I point out.

Dad declares, "No, you're not a child, but you're still my preciousfiglia. I don't want anything to happen to you, so you have to trust me."

"Dad, please. Enough with all the protection excuses." Tears fall, and I swipe at them.

"They aren't excuses," he claims.

"I'm sorry, I can't stay." The elevator door opens, and I step inside. I push the button, not looking at my parents.

The door shuts, and I make a decision.

If given the opportunity, I'll go through initiation. I'll do it no matter what it involves because I need to know the truth—the truth I'll never get from either of my parents.

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9

Sean

Killing isn't something new to me, but ending a man's life during a fight isn't part of the sport I've spent my life perfecting.

I'm a champion boxer. I respect the rules and structure. I thrive within them.

Here, none of that exists.

The beaten, bloody man who's ready to kill me stands on the other side of the line. He's a few inches shorter, a bit more muscular, and has snake tattoos all over his chest.

He's exhausted and struggling for air, yet there's no doubt he'll do everything he can to make sure he's the one standing at the end of our encounter.

A shrill whistle is blown, and before I can even comprehend what it means, his fist slams into my jaw. His other one pounds into my belly, knocking the wind out of my lungs.

I stumble back and almost lose my footing. I regain my balance, and he charges at me, but I step out of his reach at the last second.

My father's voice fills my head."Forget the rules."

The animal within me wakes up. This isn't a boxing match. This is a fight. The only way to win is to shed as much of your enemy's blood as possible.

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